


After the Storm

by shortcircuitify



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Healing, Heartache, Heartbreak, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 13:49:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7363861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortcircuitify/pseuds/shortcircuitify
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Maybe, if he said yes, she wouldn't combust into a thousand pieces, a hurricane of ash and embers, just yet." Triss and Eskel, together and apart, after the Wild Hunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to EmbarrassedElephant on ff.net for betaing this work for me, and to TitanWolf for requesting this story.

Eskel's hand smoothed down her back, over the bare curve of her hip, and then up her side again. She closed her eyes, blocking out the slowly rising sun, although it still burned the back of her eyelids.

It was the same every morning that he was here – he would touch her like she meant something, like there was more to this than necessity and need, and then he would leave, fulfilling contracts on the road until his travels brought him to her again. She would parade around in Kovir's court, waiting for something that made her feel full and whole; unsure if there was more to her than advising and politics.

Maybe each time, she was waiting for him to return again, with his surprisingly soft hands and gentle looks, but more times than not she ended up dreaming of snarky smiles that pierced her soul.

Her stomach roiled uncomfortably. Eskel was wonderful; he was stoic and handsome with the scar marring his face, and a gentleman. Their arrangement made her feel whole and happy when he held her at night, but she couldn't help thinking how Geralt's shoulders were just a little broader, and his chest less defined -

Geralt had Yennefer, Lambert was with Keira, and she had Eskel; a Witcher to spend the rest of her long days with. What more could she ask for?

But her mind spun every time he kissed her farewell, smiled at her with that slight smirk, knowledgeable and cocky. Their arrangement was the only stable thing she had in her life, yet it made her feel so unstable at the same time she didn't know what to make of it. All she knew was that her heart wasn't in it, but what more could she do?

Eskel was Eskel and she didn't really love him but she would probably fall apart without him.

He was taking longer this morning than he usually would, she noted. He was usually up at the crack of dawn, dressing in his Witcher armor and heading off to fight terrible beasts. She already felt the warmth of the sun gracing her skin, and opened her eyes, a small crease forming on her brow. She would have to be at court soon, what was taking him so long?

She felt his hand on her shoulder, smoothing over the skin there, and then his finger on her jaw, tilting her face towards him. She complied, coming face to face with enigmatic eyes. Eskel was still a mystery to her, emotions and feelings all hidden behind the cool indifference Witcher's held. More controlled and stoic than both his Witcher brothers, he felt like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

He smiled at her, capturing her lips in a long kiss. This was different than routine – it made her stomach flip. She wasn't quite sure why.

"Good morning, dove," he whispered, voice still rough.

"Morning," she replied, stretching against him. She reveled in the feel of his touch, closing her eyes and pretending his hands were just a little smoother, like she remembered from a certain someone else, before beginning to get out of bed.

A strong arm around her waist prevented her from doing so, and she looked back into amber eyes that were not quite right. He looked sad, almost, but Triss knew that was not a very Eskel-like expression.

"If you really can't stand the sight of me, I probably shouldn't be visiting Kovir again anytime soon," his voice and face were steady, but she could feel his powerful magick swaying inside him while he spoke. Her heart thumped.

"What are you talking about?" She traced the line of his scar and he pulled her hand away, slowly getting up from the bed, leaving her drowning in the middle of silk sheets, "You're very handsome, Eskel."

This was not the normal and she wasn't sure what to do with herself.

"Eh, if what women tell me is true, then I'm quite the catch. But that's not what I'm talking about. I'm a Witcher, can't hide much from me," he shrugged, and she felt his strong magick resonating in the room, and they both knew the implications of his words, "I'll be gone on a contract. Probably will be gone for eight months, maybe nine."

She sat up abruptly, watching his strong back ripple as he put on his trousers, and then his undershirt. Her chest felt tight, and her breathing was shallow. Yes, Eskel left for contracts all over the Northern Realm, but _never_ that long. Ever since they had started seeing each other again the previous year, he had always been gone a fortnight at most before returning to her.

The idea that he would be gone so long – that he would leave and then… what if he had another contract? He wouldn't be back and then their delicate balancing act would be broken and…

"But… You'll be back, won't you?" She felt selfish as the words escaped her mouth.

"Hm, Merigold, sounds like you almost want me to stay," he teased, but she heard something darker in his tone. He turned his eyes to her, boring into her, a small sad smile on his lips, "Don't worry, I'll always come back. Don't have many other places to go to, anyway." She hid her flinch at his words, but the tight knot in her chest relaxed just a bit.

Eskel had his breastplate and boots on by the time Triss dragged herself from the warmth of her bed's sheets. She unconsciously placed her hand over the scar covering her left breast and most of the left side of her chest, used to Geralt complaining of it whenever they had shared a bed, but with smooth precision that only a Witcher could possess, Eskel was at her side.

He pulled her hand away gently, his gaze dark and bright at the same time, "Don't." Triss felt a flush of embarrassment and something else make its way across her neck and face, and quickly pulled on a nearby sleeping robe, wrapping it around her body.

She turned from him, sitting at her vanity and brushing out the knots in her hair, "Where are you off to, then?" She tried keeping the tremor from her voice, cool and nonchalant.

"Lyria."

"Good contract?"

"You know me, only ever going for the best," a pause, "I'll be gone a while. I can write to you, if you'd like."

She stopped her brushing for a moment, staring at him through the glass of the mirror - leaning against the bed, arms crossed, not looking in her direction. It felt so intimate, his question. On the road he was simply Eskel and she was simply Triss in her court, but this somehow felt different. It felt important, and Triss's heart felt numb. She was tired of disappointment.

She thought for a moment, but it was only a moment, "Yes, sure. I haven't been to Lyria in quite some time."

"I'm sure it's lovely," she could hear the hint of sarcasm in his voice, and it made a small smile cross her lips. His swords clinked lightly as he strapped them to his back, "Well, I'm off, then."

She led him to the door of her chambers, and before she could say anything else, letting the tumbling in her chest and her head and her stomach make an appearance, he grabbed her by the neck, pulling her face up to his. Possessive. His lips captured hers in a hungry kiss, rough and unspeakable and it sent her confused mind tumbling until she couldn't think anymore – could only see bright lights behind her eyelids.

Then his touch was gone, and she was left searching for something she wasn't sure she wanted, "Don't forget about me now, dove," he said in that deep, gravelly voice of his.

"Wouldn't dream of it," she let her eyes trail after his retreating form.

…

**/**

_Eskel took another sip of the ale from his glass, watching from afar as Geralt took another shot, making Yennefer's eyes narrow dangerously. As much as it confused him, Yen somehow complemented Geralt in a way no other woman or sorceress had. Or maybe he was just getting a little bit tipsy – he wasn't sure which one._

_And he had to admit, Ciri knew how to throw one hell of a party. Either the girl was celebrating the end of the Wild Hunt in style, or was giving one last hurrah before being subjugated to the tortures of becoming the next Empress, and Eskel was just fine with that._

_Besides, everyone seemed to be having a merry old time – Zoltan was already pissed, Dandelion was spewing some nonsense poetry to Priscilla, and Lambert had already disappeared with Keira a while back. The music was roaring and the people were drunk and happy. Eskel let out a low chuckle. There only seemed to be one certain sorceress missing from the festivities, and he scanned his eyes around the bar once more to see where she would – oh, speaking of Miss Merigold, she seemed to be heading in his general direction at the very moment._

_He straightened his back a bit as she sat down beside him, a small greeting and smile gracing her lips. Her eyes were glazed over a bit, no doubt also a little tipsy from the free-flowing alcohol circulating the room. Her cheeks were flushed and Eskel had to admit she looked wonderful._

" _And what are you doing here, little dove?" he muttered, though he could not rightfully complain about her warm presence._

_She flashed him a wicked grin, "Enjoying the company. How have you been, Eskel?" His name on her lips sounded divine._

_He thought of the Kaer and Vesemir and snow, and shrugged his shoulders, "I've been better. But I'm here, what more could I ask for?"_

" _You're a sad drunk," Triss pouted, and he chuckled at the petulant look._

" _Only sometimes. And what of you, Merigold?"_

" _I've been better," she repeated, "But I can't complain," she gazed at him intently, something less than innocent in the way she leaned towards him, "You look good, Eskel."_

_He grunted in response, and the pair fell into an awkward silence. They had not necessarily avoided each other since… well… but they had never exactly sought out the other in a crowd when the opportunity arose. So something similar to avoiding each other, he supposed. The silence made his hands clammy and Triss to fidget in her seat._

_He wasn't quite sure what she wanted, so he took another sip of his drink and let the words spill from his mouth, "You look nice, Merigold."_

" _Thanks," she smiled softly. Another silence enveloped them, but it felt less awkward than the last._

_In the distance Eskel could hear Zoltan retching, and tried to block the noise from his mind. A warm hand wrapping around his own, easily distracting him, "I've missed you, Eskel," Triss drawled, staring at him with eyes he couldn't decipher, hidden behind long lashes, "I hate this – awkwardness – between us, what do you say we get to know each other again?"_

_His eyes widened, but he didn't pull his hand away. He turned to look at the crowd before him, Geralt trying to lead Yennefer in a tipsy waltz. He looked at Triss from the corner of his eye, taking another sip of his drink, "We tried that before, remember? Didn't exactly work out for the best, if I recall," his voice was bitter._

_If Eskel had any regrets in his life, it was becoming involved with Triss Merigold, and then letting Triss Merigold go._

_Her eyes suddenly became clear, as sharp as ice, the previous cloudiness gone, "Doesn't mean we can't – we both need someone, don't we?" He saw her eyes flicker over to Geralt, who was very publicly claiming Yennefer as his. Eskel wasn't fooled by her proposition for a moment, knew what she meant behind her sweet words. They were both alone, he knew, "It's never too late to try again, right?"_

_When she looked at him again, there was a deep sadness clouding her eyes. And damn him but he was drawn to those eyes – brighter than sapphires, waiting to be saved._

_Well, if he were to have regrets for this lifetime, it was best they come in threes._

…

**/**

A small smile graced Triss's lips as she read the letter she received from Eskel. It was more of a poem than a letter, and she assumed he stopped in Novigrad and, perhaps, visited Dandelion for a time because she _knew_ Eskel would never, ever write poetry.

_Your lips as soft as a baby's buttocks_

She let out a loud, genuine snort as she read the line. It was not the letter she was expecting, but it made the sharp ache she felt over the past month dull a little bit. They spent over a year in each other's company, coming together and going as they pleased, and it surprised even Triss how much his absence affected her. At least Eskel was safe, and maybe a little bit drunk.

She did not realize how accustomed she was to his company until he was gone a month too long. The nights were cold and the early mornings lonely, and she wondered if it was Eskel she was missing, or simply someone next to her to fill the void. A warm body that she could rely on to fill the emptiness she felt whenever she thought of the White Wolf, a man who said she was beautiful and she could pretend to believe.

She felt love once, it broke her, and she wasn't really certain she would ever feel the passion of it burning her soul again.

Despite the loneliness that surrounded her, whenever he let, she never took another lover, waiting only for him to return, sentimentality and loyalty overriding the aches and pains that scarred her bones. Perhaps there was something to say about that.

And reading the ridiculous letter - she couldn't decide if Dandelion or Zoltan wrote it - after thinking that Eskel had decided not to write to her at all, confirmed that she did genuinely miss _him_ , his sharp eyes and scarred face. The dry humor she could feel seeping through the pages in her hand. The heaviness in her shoulders was surprisingly lighter.

The letters came more often after that – not much was ever written, but there was always a memento left for her; a griffin's prismatic feather, or a lock of absenta which made her bite her lip, suppressing a smile.

His letters were brief and to the point, and she was enamored by his words, drank every one of them in and tasted them on her lips. He wrote about his travels and the monsters he killed, and the way he missed the blue of her eyes.

Her stomach did that odd flip again whenever his letters would arrive, and she would curl up in her bed during the evenings and read and re-read his inked words. But the bed was always cold, and she wrote to him on more than one occasion that she missed him beside her. He just sent her more absenta in reply.

Long days mourning her lost love were now spent waiting in anticipation for those scarce letters, thinking of dark chestnut hair and a deep, throaty laugh that she didn't hear enough of. She wrote him back about court politics, and even through his short replies she could tell he was feigning interest. She could read the man like a book and she felt powerful. Happy about the clarity he brought – so different than other Witchers she had met - to her otherwise muggy life.

She thought about the irony, that it took him leaving her for her to realize how much she missed him. Even still, she thought of Geralt, far away in his little cabin, living with Yennefer in blissful quiet.

His letters in the night brought her peace – the only thing keeping her from jumping out of her own skin and running off into the wilds.

…

**/**

_Eskel was a handsome man. He was no Geralt – with his striking jaw and white hair – but he had a certain ruggedness that Triss couldn't help but find attractive._

_She took a sip of the sweet wine she enjoyed so much as she watched Keira and Lambert not-so-stealthily sneak up the stairs of the Rosemary and Thyme._

_She scowled and pretended she didn't feel the loneliness thumping in her heart, especially when she turned to see Yennefer and Geralt kissing in a corner as if the world was ending. She was glad that at least Ciri was already wasted so she wouldn't have the image burned into her skull – Triss knew it would take plenty more wine to shake it from hers._

_She took one sip and then another, and then maybe two more after that. She felt light, lonely, and when Dandelion became dazed from drinking and started staring at Priscilla like she was the universe, she started sulking._

_Why couldn't anyone look at her like that? Sure, men leered and eyed her up, and many wanted to bed her, but none ever looked at her with such sentimentality, such devotion. Like they would drown in her depths. Was she asking too much? After her luck with men, she didn't think so, but she wasn't going to risk it, only to have her heart shattered again._

_It wasn't worth it._

_She spotted Eskel – he was still in the same corner of the room he was in earlier. A thought popped in her head, and just because her heart was trapped away, it didn't mean she had to be alone. She easily made her way towards him in the crowd_

_She had not spoken to him in a good while, and the conversation was awkward, but she was not deterred. She was Triss Merigold and sure, she was a little broken, but she was determined – she and Eskel were both lonely spirits, and what she offered would mean she wouldn't have to spend every night in Pont Vanis lonely and cold. Not with a hearty Witcher at her side._

_She could see he wasn't fooled by her offer, but she didn't care because she knew he was lonely too. Maybe she was taking advantage because for him, there was always just her. But things were different now and they both didn't quite know how to trust so as long as he said yes…_

_Maybe, if he said yes, she wouldn't combust into a thousand pieces, a hurricane of ash and embers, just yet._

…

**/**

"Miss?"

"Yes, Seira?" Triss looked up from the paperwork she was reviewing to see one of Pont Vanis's servants standing in her doorway.

The woman's eyes flickered across the sorceress's desk, littered with plants and feathers and various teeth, and smiled knowingly, "Well, you told me to inform you the moment a man named Eskel returned to the castle, and just minutes ago I was passing the garden and –"

Triss did not let the woman finish, instead rushing through a quick 'thank you' and abandoning her papers in favor of running to the gardens in search of her Witcher. _Her_ Witcher – it had a nice ring to it, Triss mused.

_He was back he was back he was back he was back and he didn't leave her and he was back_

She could already see his face in her mind – the way his eyes would bore into her and she would kiss him and drag him off to bed before he could even say 'hello'.

She stopped abruptly, almost tripping over herself in her haste. Her eyes scanned the garden, flitting around until she spotted him – tall and wide, armor a little worse for wear, but otherwise still the same Eskel. She watched him for a moment, his jaw set and shoulders stiff, still on alert without her nearby. He looked wonderful – distant and stoic – that her memory could not do justice. She thought of his rippling muscles beneath her hands, tracing the scar she knew embarrassed him – even if he never said so - because the vision was slowly fading from his scratched eye.

And in a flash she barreled towards him, a smile splitting her face as he turned in her direction, spotting her. _Nine_ months. Nine months too long. His face lightened immediately, a soft smile gracing his features, making his face that much handsomer. His eyes softened, and he opened his arms for her quickly approaching form, to catch her up into him.

She wasn't going to let him go, not for a long time, not after –

A flash of white hair with smouldering amber eyes. Nights at Kaer Morhen where they drank wine and she was sitting in the White Wolf's lap while he whispered sweet nothings in her ear. The way his eyes flickered when she left for Kovir – was it regret or relief? She couldn't remember.

Geralt's steely gaze and set jaw haunted her vision, consuming her thoughts and her heart all in a cataclysm that made her stop in her tracks. She felt the empty cold in her chest reigniting, her heart imprisoning itself within impenetrable walls. Safe. Doubt filled her. Her eyes glazed over, and she slowed her pace until she stopped, just out of arm's reach of Eskel. His smile slowly faded and his arms lowered, eyes boring into her even though her own were unseeing.

Eskel knew those eyes from anywhere – the faraway look that entrapped Triss whenever she thought about the White Wolf, about trust lost and pain found. He hoped –

Bah, it didn't matter what he hoped. It was clear Merigold's heart was still trapped under lock and key, beating and afraid. But Eskel was nothing if not persistent, and what Triss needed was someone who was just as stubborn as her, he knew.

Someone to let her forget, every once in a while, the pain he also once felt. He picked up his bags, the weight heavy on his shoulders, and kissed his dove's cheek as he passed by her still frozen form.

"I'll pack my things away. I'm here when you need me," he whispered into her hair, and walked familiar halls to her rooms.

…

**/**

Eskel was only back a week before he was lacing up his boots to head out again, another contract calling to the hunter inside of him. This time, there was no late morning and no lingering kisses before his bag was slung over his shoulder, bidding her a farewell.

Triss fidgeted with her hands nervously as he opened his arms, waiting for the swift customary kiss they shared before he was off. She didn't approach him, trying to keep the pout forming on her lips hidden. This time, she _wanted_ to break routine, break the arrangement they shambled through for so long. She wanted him to stay in bed a little longer and maybe kiss her again, leaving his mark on her before he was gone into the world.

The same thoughts consumed her all week, but she did not have the heart to ask him to stay. Did not have the courage to put herself out there if he was going to leave once more. She couldn't understand why, but she just did, and she wasn't quite sure how to make him stay, even if only for a little while.

And now he was at her door and she had to think fast before he was gone.

Eskel, obviously taking the prolonged silence as his cue to leave, began opening the door to her chambers, "I'm not sure the next time I'll be back but –"

She approached him quickly and cut him off, "You can't possibly leave yet, I haven't even got you anything," the words were jumbled and she realized belatedly she didn't make much sense, but he paused in turning the doorknob to leave so she took what she could.

His eyebrow quirked, "What?"

She flushed just a bit under his gaze, absently playing with a loose thread on his tunic, "You've gone to all the trouble to bring me such beautiful gifts, so surely there is something you would want in return?"

He studied her for a moment and then scowled, "I don't want you to give me anything just because you think you _owe_ me."

Her eyes widened, and she felt a little frantic, "What? No! Of course not. I just – well," she stuttered, the statement throwing her off guard.

"Be careful, Merigold, it's starting to sound like you care," it was not said in the same teasing tone he used months before, and although there was a smirk on his lips it was tinged with sadness and the words stung her, making her flinch away from him. The smirk morphed into a smile, longing and far away, "'Sides, I've got everything I already want – I guess I do, at least."

By _everything_ maybe he meant _her_ and it gave her a surge of confidence. She looked at him again, "Oh, well, perhaps you'd like to go down to the harbor and go for a walk, when you stop here next time? I hear the taverns there make the best whiskey, and you won't have to be cooped up in the castle while you stay," she asked, determined, her eyes never leaving his.

He seemed taken aback for a moment by the offer – long romantic walks were very much _not_ what Triss wanted from him in the past year - but then he wrapped his arm around her waist and started leading her back into her chambers, a smile threatening to light his whole face up. So simple and gesture and she loved it, "Merigold, if you wanted me to stay, all you had to do was ask."

Her heart felt like it would explode from her chest, lighter and freer, "Really?"

Somehow, asking him to abandon a contract to just spend a little more time with her felt wrong and selfish. No one had ever, after all, chosen her. There was always something or someone more important in the way of _her._ The roiling in her stomach was back, flips and all.

"Mm," he led her to the couch, throwing his swords and pack haphazardly to the side as he plopped down with her still in his arms, "The contract was pretty shitty this time anyway," the statement made the fluttering in her chest dampen a touch – an explanation unnecessary but told anyway. He immediately set about fluttering kisses over her jaw and neck, and she couldn't stop leaning into his touch even if she tried.

Suddenly however, his lips stopped, and she almost whined at their absence. She was already feeling flustered from his ministrations, but when she looked into his eyes – swirling with emotions she didn't want to understand and hesitation and sadness - she sat upright, on alert.

"What's wrong?" she asked gently, her hand smoothing circles over his chest.

"You don't… _actually_ want to go out together, do you?" His voice was monotonous, and Triss bit her lip. Their relationship ended up being about always finding the closest bed as soon as possible, and it was not so different now – why should she want to go out with the man she could be bedding, prancing around like they actually cared? _Damn_ this enigma of a man, who could so easily pull her in to him and make her question the iciness that flowed through her veins.

His question felt like a test, one that if she got wrong would mean she would be empty and lonely and a bunch of broken pieces again, "Of course I do, just let me change and we'll be off," she kissed him quickly and wiggled out of his suddenly possessive grasp, making her way towards her bedroom.

"That means we'll be leaving some time in the evening then, right?" Eskel teased behind her and she shot him a faux-scathing look.

Hands on her hips, a smirk quirked her lips, "Hm, then I'll just have to make it up to you. You could always join me for the winter festival held at Lan Exeter this year. The King knows how to throw _quite_ the party, you know."

"That your way of asking me on a _date_?" he leaned back in the couch, getting comfortable, all cocky smiles and teases.

She hesitated a moment – a date, as in going together, making their arrangement a public affair, a weird couple made up of a broken sorceress and wary Witcher, "Maybe it is. You'll just have to wait and see, I suppose," she winked at him and he whistled his appreciation.

" _Tease._ Go get dressed – the sooner we try this supposed best whiskey, the sooner I can rip whatever clothes you'll wear off of you."

Her eyes flickered towards her bedroom. Instead, she approached him and hunkered down in his lap once more, pouting, "I didn't hear you say _yes_ , yet."

There was a serene smile on his face and she was glad she put it there, "You're full of surprises today, dove."

"So?"

He sighed, "Can't. The season's changing soon and I need to find someplace to winter. I'll head off on my next contract and then try to find a place to stay, so I won't be back in time for you party."

"Do you have to go?" She asked, feigning indifference.

His eyes were guarded, "I _could_ stay, but that also means I wouldn't be able to leave Lan Exeter until the spring."

She ran her hands over his jaw, the little amount of stubble already starting to grow there, "Is there a problem with that?"

"Not for me, but…" His voice was strained, as if he was worried she would combust or break with the words. She understood the implications, and brought her hands into her own lap. He rubbed her knuckles, but she avoided his gaze.

And she hated herself a little bit because he was right – the thought brought her anxiety, trapping them together for the winter. But another part of her thought of last year – the cold winter, with no one to talk to or hold her, and that sounded so much worst.

And maybe her heart just ached a little at the thought – that he was so afraid, so nervous.

Inhibitions to the wind, she looked into his steely gaze, and with the determination she fostered, she told him, "Stay the winter - with me."

This time he fully frowned, watching her, eyes boring into her so intently that she was certain he would see her soul. It made her shiver, "Are you _sure_ that's what you want?"

No one ever asked what she wanted before and it was this stupid, chivalrous man that was more worried about her and her distant touches than the own pleasure he would find with her if he stayed the winter. They never stayed together for longer than a few weeks and maybe Triss would finally destroy him in the months to come and he would never want to return, but she was willing to take the chance.

She was tired of disappointment and people leaving her, and even if she knew her heart was trapped away somewhere deep inside herself – the one gift that would satisfy Eskel's hunger, the one gift he probably deserved - she was selfish and Eskel was _hers_ and dammit, she wouldn't wait another four months to see him again, "Yes, yes I really do."

Even he could see her heart wasn't _quite_ in it, but he wasn't about to deny her wish. He leaned in and kissed her slowly, languidly, "Anything for you, dove."

"I like it when you call me that," she confessed quietly, her cheeks a light pink.

He smirked, "Good, I don't plan to stop."

…

**/**

He sniffed the air, trying to catch the scent of her perfume on the sharp breeze – daisies and vanilla. His eyes scanned the courtyard before him meticulously, examining and re-examining every bush and branch and fluff of snow out of place. Try as she might, a Witcher never lost track of his prey, and she would be found sooner or later.

But the hunt _was_ always the most fun part, Eskel conceded.

He tried sensing which direction her magick was in, the general vicinity of his sorceress, but couldn't make heads or tails of her direction. Either she was expanding her reach so he couldn't find her, or bottling up her magick inside, concentrating it until it seemed to disappear. If it was the later, she should be easy enough to spot – a little ball of flame was easy to find in the dead of winter.

But her tracks were covered by the lazily falling snow, and he couldn't be sure if he saw her go left or right earlier.

He stopped in his tracks, trying to see any movement that might give away her location. She would have to move eventually, but Eskel? He could keep this up for hours, and she would have no choice but to be his prey.

A smirk crossed his features, "You can't hide from me forever, Merigold, might as well just give up now and save us both the trouble," he teased, trying to draw her out with his taunts.

Nothing. The sorceress was trickier than he thought – he always underestimated her, it seemed. The snow crunched under his boots as he turned left – perhaps she was hiding beneath some of the large, stone archways that littered the castle garden?

As he approached he picked it up – a small noise, but of no animal he ever heard. It sounded liked stifled giggling, and he stopped himself from running to her and claiming her, giving away his own location.

Using a quiet aard, he cleared the snow from his path, inching closer to his target, who was hiding behind a fallen pillar. The giggling quieted down and he stopped moving, but in a flash of fire he was on his toes again, running after a head of auburn hair and a voice that sounded like tinkling notes.

"You _cheated_!" She cried, laughing all the while, trying to escape from the Witcher following close behind her.

"And fireballs are fair game, then?" He chuckled, slowly but surely catching up to the sorceress. Sure, she had the initial energy to get away from him, but he knew he had the endurance to eventually catch up.

"You think I didn't feel you use your magick? Please, Eskel, you need to give me more credit!"

Not that he was complaining - the view was a pleasant one. Triss's heavy breathing echoed as she darted into the forest surrounding the palace's grounds, weaving through trees to try and get away. Eskel could see it was half-hearted at most, though. She was probably secretly excited to get captured, and it only made him increase his pace, a surge of energy overtaking him.

Although Eskel was strong and experienced, Triss was light and agile, and he was dismayed to find for a moment that he lost his target among the dark woods and leafy canopy. He stopped in his tracks, breathing heavy.

He took in his surroundings, and when he heard a soft giggle on the wind, ran in that direction like his life depended on it. Soon, he came upon a clearing through the trees, and in the center was his Merigold – looking vibrant against the snowy background. Her eyes were sparkling with mischief and all common sense to dodge the softly lobed snowball in his direction was lost. He took the snowball to the face happily, especially if it meant Triss's face lit up with pure happiness the way it did.

And then she was laughing. It wasn't a giggle, or a soft sigh, but a full-blown laugh, snorts included. He had not heard her laugh so freely and loudly in a too-long time, and he ran to her – claiming his prize - picking her up and twirling her, her bright smile no doubt reflected on his own face.

He captured her lips with his, but something was different. He felt the passion seeping off of her in waves, the enthusiasm that she responded to him, and once they both needed air he pulled back breathless and a little stunned.

"Haven't seen you laugh like that in too long a time, dove," he gently lowered her to the ground but kept his arms around her waist, her looping her arms around his neck.

She looked thoughtful for a moment, "I guess I feel like there's something to enjoy, now. I feel… happy," as her words escaped those plump lips, a smile – contagious as ever – grew, swallowing Eskel whole.

They never really talked about it but it was in the air now, "That's good, I'm glad."

She waved a hand, feigning indifference but Eskel could see the nerves flitting through her eyes, the way she avoided his gaze when she mumbled, "And you helped with that, too. Of course."

Eskel smirked, kissed her once, twice, until she was flustered from his soft touches on her cheeks and neck, " _My,_ Merigold, you're looking a little flushed. Best we get you inside before you catch a chill," he drawled, picking her up under her thighs as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He could get used to this – this was nice.

When he looked back to her face, however, she was biting her lip. And the care-free, worry-less Triss was gone to be replaced by the sallow, broken-hearted one he grew to know all over again the past year. Her eyes were glazed and worry lines creased her brow, a maelstrom of emotions conflicting in the depths of her eyes.

But there was also something else there – a vibrant spark he had not seen before, something alive and wonderful that made the blue in her eyes sparkle. He nuzzled her neck, if only to avoid the intensity of her gaze, the way she could look both ecstatic and guilty making him feel unnerved.

Eskel sighed – he would wait for however long it took to get that vibrant, happy Merigold again. He would keep his distance and hold her close and give her space until she was fiery and bright. In the meantime, he would take whatever he could from her – a laugh there and a smile here.

And if at the end of the winter, at the end of all of this, she would ask him to leave, he would. If only to make her happy again.

…

**/**

Triss stretched out on the rug before the roaring fireplace, the fluffy texture smooth over her skin. She sighed, relaxing further into the cushion of soft surrounding her. She could hear Eskel fumbling out of the 'itchy' tunic she forced him in earlier in the night, and her own dress's strings were already pulled loose, but she couldn't find the strength to take the actual thing off.

She rubbed the scar marring her chest, but it did not make her shudder in disgust as it once would. She traced it fondly.

She curled onto her side, staring into the flickering flames, imitating them with a small flame licking its way up one of her own fingers. She smiled to herself, thinking about the way Eskel tripped over his own two feet while they danced across Lan Exeter's ballroom, persistent nonetheless because she requested they dance.

"Thank you for dancing with me," she tried to keep the laughter out of her voice for his sake, but it was hard considering how giddy and light she felt, the adrenaline from the evening not yet worn off.

Luckily, Eskel had thick skin, and he chuckled quietly along with her. She heard him open a bottle behind her, and the clinking of glasses, "Only for you, dove. Besides, couldn't take the chance of some young, handsome lord coming in to sweep you away from under me with his amazing grace," he mumbled, a possessive lilt to his voice.

Triss felt her cheeks heating up, much more than the fire was capable of doing, and her heart beat a steady rhythm that made the blood pound in her ears. She couldn't help the small smile crossing her lips from his words. Before, when Eskel was possessive of her, she never thought much of it, a silent acquiesce to his nature. Now, the thought of him marking her as _his_ made her heart leap a little.

"Don't worry, I wouldn't have danced with them anyway," she replied, honest.

It just wouldn't have been the same, dancing with someone other than _her_ Witcher – even if the White Wolf asked her, she would have probably declined the offer. The thought made her surprised for a moment – both by her certainty, and by Geralt popping into her thoughts. She had not thought about him since winter had begun and she holed herself up in Kovir's seasonal capital with a man whose mere touch made her trapped little heart all warm and confused.

Her heart did another leap, realizing she did not freeze at the mere thought of her former lover, the memory of his face not leaving her feeling icy and alone.

All she could think about was Eskel attempting to dance in a jig he never heard before, all because she expressed an interest in dancing. It made her feel drunk and bubbly, even if she only had one flute of champagne.

She felt him sit down behind her, his hand splaying over her still-clothed hip, and she melted into his touch. He placed a glass of wine in front of her, just off of the carpet so as not to spill.

"Tired?" he asked, amused.

"Very," she sighed.

"Not too tired, I hope," he kissed her neck languidly, and she bit her lip to stifle the moan escaping her throat.

"Incorrigible," she whispered.

"Mm, for you? Always," she pulled his hand up to her chest, entwining their fingers together, her heart and scarred flesh just beneath their palms. The fullness of her heart stuttered for a moment.

"Vada couldn't take her eyes off of you tonight, you were quite dashing," she kept her eyes trained on the flames, her voice monotonous so as not to betray herself, the itch of jealousy gnawing at her thoughts.

"You don't say? I've been called many things, but never before dashing," he smirked against the nape of her neck.

"Yes, she's had her eye out for you ever since we came to Lan Exeter," Eskel noted his dove's use of _we_ , which only made him smile wider, "She's one of the most beautiful women in court."

"Oh, really?" At this point he was more interested in how to untangle Triss from the bundle of fabrics she trapped herself in than some… _woman_.

"Of course," Triss scoffed lightly, her stomach doing uncomfortable twists at the idea of Eskel and Vada and… "She's an amazing lover, or so I've heard. None of her lovers leave her bed unsatisfied," she waited for his reaction, for the hunger he would no-doubt have for another conquest waiting to be claimed. It made her heart hurt, and she cursed herself.

"And…?"

"No, nothing. I just thought you would want to know," she stuttered, thinking that perhaps Eskel _did_ already know. Perhaps they already –

He tilted her head towards him, his finger lifting her chin so that she would look him in the eyes, the fear in her eyes making him frown, "Dove, why would I care about her and whatever her bedding skills are when I have you?" he kissed her on the cheek, "Only you."

Triss's heart fluttered to life again, Eskel's quiet confession making her relieved and excited at the same time. She was worried her heart might explode from her chest, the sudden euphoria staggering. She had not felt this way in…

"I'm sorry," she began, "I didn't mean –"

"Hey," Eskel soothed, "No harm done. I – think I understand, at least. Now c'mon, let's get you out of this ridiculous dress and into bed. That trot made me wish I could cut off my feet."

She allowed him to strip her of her garment, and he carried her over to the plush bed that they both grew accustomed to over the long nights they spent together so far. The adrenaline wore itself from her system, and in its place – from her erratic heart to her flushed cheeks – she felt a sort of tired contentment.

She melted against Eskel's body, molding herself to him, lying on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She did not know why she was so stubborn – why she was afraid, when now she would never trade an empty bed for having Eskel there beside her – and perhaps he burrowed himself into her heart as well.

She sighed, happy.

She kissed him once, twice, and then a third time, her body filling with heat and ribbons that curled tightly in her chest, and it felt so wonderful that she couldn't get enough. She kissed him again, and then once more, and she could feel Eskel's reverberating laugh against her lips.

"I wish this could last forever," she confessed, quietly, a little afraid.

"You're just saying that because you're cold," he teased back.

"…Maybe," she conceded, afraid that her insides would all pour out if she were to say any more. And she wasn't sure if she was ready for that.

…

**/**

In the winter, when the nights grew long and the weather dreary, their arrangement changed and this time Triss didn't feel so suffocated by it. It didn't make her skin break out into gooseflesh at the thought – at the mixing of something solid and something undefinable.

The mornings were long and languid, with stolen kisses and soft touches. The dawn rose but they rarely did, and when they eventually had to it was with great reluctance. At least from Triss – Eskel didn't mind the view as she got dressed for court each morning.

Eskel, she learned quickly enough, was more like a cat than he ever would be a wolf and she wondered if he got mixed up during the Trial of the Grasses. Although he would never admit it to anyone, he _cuddled_ in his sleep, and she was more than happy to oblige him, letting him scoop her into his arms and nuzzle into her neck.

He was incredibly warm, warding off the ache in her chilly bones, and she wondered how she survived the last winter without him, why she thought those months away would protect, help her build up her walls and keep her there, away from his prying gaze.

Maybe she _wanted_ him to leave her – to never look back, one less Witcher looming over her shoulder, always watching and waiting. But when the snow melted and court migrated back to Pont Vanis, he was there, waiting for her like she knew in her bones he would. She sighed, burrowing deeper into the thick cushions and Eskel's body, his chest pressed tightly to her back.

She was so glad he did – that he hadn't left her in far off Kovir – because she had no idea where she would be now, but all that mattered was that she would be alone, and it almost felt like an impossibility.

She felt his even breathing against her back, the easiness in the way he threw his arm over her hip, pulling her to him. The vulnerability in the way he slept, so trusting of her – it was a quiet kind of wonderful, making her feel light and dizzy. She threaded her fingers with his own, gently turning in his embrace so that she faced the vast expanse of his chest as he slept undisturbed. She smoothed her fingers over his skin.

She felt the whirling in her stomach again, but this time it was subdued, softened. Tears pricked her eyes and she placed her forehead in the crook of Eskel's neck, "I'm _sorry,"_ she whispered into the night air.

"What for?" Eskel asked, his voice wrought with sleep, rough and tired – it _was_ the middle of the night, after all.

Triss cursed, _damn_ Witchers and their _damn_ light sleeping, "Um, well, I – I don't know," the words fell from her lips, uncertain if she could explain to him the tightening in her chest and the familiar beating she tried to ignore.

Eskel tightened his grip on her waist, holding her close, "Then forget about it," he dismissed, and then, all too knowingly, "It's not worth it to live in the past."

Triss held her breath a moment, and then, "I thought I loved Geralt, you know. I really did," perhaps it was the worst thing to say in the moment, in bed with her new lover, but she was selfish and it felt good to say it out loud, get it off her chest.

Eskel sighed, and it made some of her long hair fall into her face, "I know, dove. And I think you _did_ love him. Still do, a little bit."

She heard the strain in his voice and bit her lip but didn't comment on it, "I'm not so sure the feeling was reciprocated."

He stroked her side, her ribs and hip, "Geralt's a complicated guy, with complicated feelings, or at least, that's what he does to himself... Can we not talk about him right now?" He asked, slightly annoyed, slightly angry, although Triss wasn't quite sure why.

She stayed silent a moment, before tracing unseen lines and patterns onto Eskel's chest, "I need someone simple, then. _Want_ someone simple."

"Simple's good."

"I want someone who'll always come back to me. Put me first, like I'll put them first."

"What more could you ask for?"

"Someone who loves me unconditionally."

Eskel scoffed, "That won't be hard," and Triss couldn't help the heat flooding her cheeks.

"But it won't be easy. I'll have to love them too, you know," and she felt him stiffen in her arms. She hoped it was a good sign, "Do you know of any candidates?" she teased, trying to make him relax again, massaging his strong arms.

"I might – ah – know a few, might not be up to your standards, though," he tried pulling away from her but she wouldn't allow it, hooking one of her legs over his hip so he was forced to stay with her laying on his chest.

A smirk played on her lips, "Why not? I thought it wouldn't be hard to find someone."

He covered his eyes from the little bit of pre-dawn light seeping into the room with his arm, and groaned, " _Not_ what I meant, Merigold. What are you playing at?" She could see he was becoming just a tad bit frustrated, although he tried to hide it as best he could, for her sake.

She looked at him a moment, before kissing his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist more securely, "Just - thank you for everything, Eskel," she told him sincerely.

He deflated and she sagged into his chest, as if that wasn't the answer he was hoping for, and her heart sped up erratically, hoping that he understood, that something got through to his thick skull for once. That he would be here with her in the morning, in all of his straight-forward, stoic, a little snippy, Eskel glory.

Her only answer was a kiss on the crown of her head, and him whispering, "Good night."

…

**/**

Spring came and the secrets they shared in the dark would melt in the sun's new heat, and Eskel wasn't sure he wanted to be around when that happened.

Triss looked vibrant and fresh with the blooming of spring – her smiles were given freely and she laughed, and Eskel liked to think he helped, if just a bit. Her hair shone like a halo of fire and the confidence that oozed off of her like her magick made him proud, happy.

It was time for him to leave. Contracts were pouring in with the melting of the snow, and Eskel needed to get on the road again. Feel the fresh breeze against his face, where he could think without distractions in the form of attractive sorceresses. He rubbed his face, wiping the sleep from his eyes. The court would start its trek back to Pont Vanis today, and Triss was already flitting around the room, packing away her dresses and magickal items.

Eskel watched her, already prepared to head back on the Road once his dove was ready and safely on the road with a troop of guards protecting her. He sharpened his sword as Triss muttered to herself about remembering her soaps, and to seal her potions properly lest they spill.

He put down the sharpening stone for a moment, simply watching her every step, the life that seeped from her as her eyes scanned the room once again, triple checking she did not left anything behind.

Her eyes finally focused on him, and a smile broke across her face, "Yes, of course, can't forget about my Witcher, now, can I?"

Eskel smirked, putting the sword back into its sheath and strapping them both to his back, "Wouldn't want to be stuck here until next winter, that's for sure."

He watched as her eyes followed the hand strapping his swords, the sudden apprehension in her eyes, and the smile that did not reach her eyes.

"Leaving already?"

"Witcher, remember?" She approached him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Triss blushed, "Of course. When are you leaving?"

"Whenever your carriage takes you off into the morning light," he drawled sarcastically.

"Ah, and when will you be back?" She stood on her tip toes, her face a mere few inches from his. He resisted the temptation, focusing instead on her eyes. He wasn't quite sure where she was going with this conversation – he usually popped in whenever time permitted, and she didn't seem bothered by the arrangement before.

Not that he wouldn't like to stay, but there were monsters to kill, and such and such. The life of a Witcher and all that.

"Not sure – maybe a couple months? Found a good contract that-"

He was cut off by a kiss to the lips, "Perhaps sooner?"

He frowned, "Well, it all depends on-"

Another kiss, longer and deeper, "What about now?"

Eskel scowled, the lines deep on his face. He pulled away from Triss, who had an expectant smile on her own, "Maybe. Don't you want the extra time? It'll help you to find someone to love you and all that other shit if I'm not around," He tried to keep the bitterness from his voice, but it was hard, "Don't hold back for my sake."

It only made Triss smile harder, "Well, then, you must come back as quickly as you can." She pulled on the front of his tunic, bringing his head down to hers, her mouth engulfing him.

It was sweet and rough and he pulled her to him, all teeth and tongues and Eskel was certain he was going to suffocate, but he didn't seem to care all of a sudden. If her words meant what he thought –

He broke the kiss and cupped her face in his hands. His dove's eyes were still closed, cheeks flushed pleasantly, and a light smile playing on her lips.

Eskel growled in his throat, some part possessive and some part annoyed beyond all hell, "Why didn't you just _tell_ me, you infuriating witch?"

She blushed and turned, "I thought it was _romantic_ – or, at least cute," she confessed quietly.

"You're godsdamn lucky that I love you," he snarled, and Triss saw why he was more a wolf than a cat. She didn't have much time to ponder before her mouth was invaded once again, and she moaned, her eyes fluttering shut, " _Thanks for everything Eskel_? It makes me sound like I'm a cheap prostitute."

She laughed. That full, hearty, wonderful laugh, and snuggled into his side, "And that's why I love you."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and groaned, " _Finally_. You have no idea how long I wanted to hear that."

She raised her eyebrow, although he couldn't see it, as he was pressing her face into his chest, keeping her close, "Is that all you've wanted, all this time, then? Ready to head on the Road again?" He knew she was teasing but he could hear the apprehension in her voice – the tiny part of her still afraid, despite putting herself out there like she just did, that he would still leave her behind.

"Well, everything was pretty nice. But this? Just the icing on the cake," he replied nonchalantly, and he felt her relax in his arms. He tried ignoring the rapid pace his heart took on, "No more playing around, though, okay? I'm getting too old for that kind of shit."

"Fine. But no more nine month contracts," she pouted and he kissed the expression right off her face, leaving her dazed and her mouth slightly agape.

"I couldn't take another one even if I tried, the first was torture," He felt her magick humming, vibrating in his chest.

She looked up at him, her eyes bright and happy, all for _him,_ "I love you."

In response, he lifted her into his arms, getting a delighted shriek from his dove. He started nuzzling her neck, moving in the general direction that the bed was in, ready to stay here until next winter if necessary.

Before he could drop her onto the bed for a lazy day spent together, she was on her feet, moving towards the door to her chambers, travelling trunks in hand, "Eskel, we can't miss the caravan! I have to be back with the rest of the court in Pont Valis by the week's end. Besides, _you_ have a contract to get on," she started wrapping her cloak around her shoulders, trying to stay calm even though the joyous smile was still on her face.

Eskel blanched, " _What?_ You tell me you love me and you expect me to go on a Contract? I think you've been spending too much time with Yennefer," he groused, crossing his arms, before his eyes widened a fraction and he continued, "S-shit, I'm sorry, Triss. I shouldn't have –"

She approached him quickly, wrapping her arms around his waist, the smile still turning her lips, although it took on a teasing edge, "It's alright, it doesn't bother me. I don't care anymore."

Eskel stared at her a moment, "You mean…?"

She nodded her head, resting it in the crook of his neck, "Only you."

"I'll come back for you."

"I know you will."

"… You could always just teleport to Pont Vanis, you know. Save a lot of time, have more _extra_ time available, in case you have any plans," he drawled, his hands already snaking their way down her back.

She began shaking in his arms, trying to hold back her giddy laughter, "I happen to _like_ the trip back, it's very scenic," her voice was laced with giggles and a little breathy.

Eskel scowled, "Now I _know_ you're just teasing me," and her laughter reverberated around them.

She pulled away slightly, her eyes dark, clouded with more than just blind lust, "I promise that you'll be fully rewarded once you get back from your contract," she replied, her voice going a little husky, and he was happy he wasn't the only one affected.

He kissed the scar on her chest, and she shivered in a most delighted way;

He felt warmth blooming in his chest, imagining coming back home – _home_ , he never had one of those - to Triss awaiting him, "Mm, best get me some tunics prepared by that time as well, then. I'm sure the court wouldn't appreciate me walking around in armor."

Triss's eyes lit up even more, if that was possible, "You mean – oh, yes, yes of course I will!" She fumbled over her own words, excitement eating away at her. He had no doubt she was already imagining the designs and fabrics she would order for his new attire.

"Yeah, yeah," he waved his hand, "Make room for my stuff in your drawers too, and all that shit."

"First thing I'll do," she vowed, and he was worried her smile might break her face in half. But he probably shouldn't have been the one talking – his own face ached from the irremovable smile that found its way there.

Was it normal to be this happy? He was certain he'd never stop.

"I'll be back in a month, then. No longer. I promise."

She kissed him, "I'll be waiting," and then she was on her feet again, pulling together her belongings for the trip back to the Pont. Eskel shouldered as many bags as he could, grumbling all the way down to the stable about how Triss packed rocks, of all things, to take with her.

She sheepishly replied that she did, in fact, pack some rocks, to further observe their magical properties. Eskel only glared slightly.

Once everything was packed safely in the back of the carriage that she would be riding in, following the King to Pont Vanis, Eskel stared at his little dove. The smile on her face reflected the serene joy and contentment that infected his own senses and heart. It made him feel safe, secure, knowing he had the same effect on her that she had on him.

He gripped her around the nape of her neck, and her slender hand wrapped around his wrist. He pulled her up to him, his kiss possessive and hungry and all-telling. She _loved_ it, melted into his touch.

"Don't forget about me, little dove," he whispered, intimate.

Her smile was teasing and loving, all of her feelings that were wonderful and amazing that she missed for too long coming back to her in a wave of exhilaration. She traced the scar on his face, delighted when he leaned into her touch, "Wouldn't dream of it."


End file.
